


Some Real Cowboy Shit

by PiratePlume



Category: All Elite Wrestling, Being The Elite (Web Series)
Genre: F/M, alcohol use, and you might be right about who that is ;), little bit of edging/orgasm denial, one character may or may not seem Very Much like another wrestler, some mentions of cuckolding/swinging, some unprotected sex again cause apparently thats my brand at this point
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-17
Updated: 2019-12-17
Packaged: 2021-02-25 05:08:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21830503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PiratePlume/pseuds/PiratePlume
Summary: Directly following the events in episode 181 of Being the Elite; Adam responds to a reply he gets from that accidental e-mail he sent when he meant to ask Private Party to do a bit on BTE with him, drunk off the booze he snatched from them and desperate to get back on his cowboy shit.
Relationships: Adam Page/Original Female Character(s)
Kudos: 9





	Some Real Cowboy Shit

**Author's Note:**

> You can all thank vonschweetz on tumblr for this one because after the bte episode she suggested Adam getting a reply back from the swingers e-mail sounded like the perfect set-up for a naughty fic and I took the bait hook, line, and sinker. Happily, of course!

“He’s gonna have a lit night tonight.”

The words followed his back and Adam didn’t pause to consider or rethink his actions. He grimaced against the burn in his throat and blinked, reaching to press his thumb and forefinger over his low brows. _That **definitel** y wasn’t water_. He opened his eyes and the long cement brick hallways veered in an odd direction in front of him, throwing him slightly off balance. One large hand jerked outward, fingers spread, and his palm caught his body weight on a rolling case with wheels which were thankfully locked. The case caught the bulk of his weight and kept him standing upright.

“Heh,” a breathless chuckle, amused at how just two glasses had already made him sway. His eyes darted down to the bottle he was holding, tilting it, letting the remaining liquor slosh around in its contents. “Those boys know how to party,” he said to only himself, mouth open with another amused laugh. “This is a Private Party!” He sang gently under his breath and laughed again.

His brows jerked, and he shook his head, fluffy, blond curls slightly disturbed by the motion.

“Gotta get back on my cowboy shit,” he muttered, remembering, and stood upright again.

Wasn’t he already trying that? Wasn’t stepping away from the Elite, riding solo, supposed to help him finally make a damn name for himself? Hadn’t his performance in the 12-man Dynamite Dozen Battle Royale proved just what in the hell he’d meant? A small noise of frustration in his throat and he tried to give those thoughts a mental shove. He was going to do exactly what he’d just said. He was going to do what the fuck he promised he was going to do. Every damn person in every damn crowd was going to make the walls of the arena’s vibrate with their “cowboy shit” chants when he came out to the ring.

He wasn’t going to be buried. Forgotten. Left behind. He was **done** with that. He was done licking his goddamn wounds.

Adam stormed into the little room where his luggage case was packed and waiting. The show wasn’t over – walls still reverberating with the cheers of thousands of fans watching the matches – but why stick around? His thick fingers wrapped around the plastic handle and rolled the case. He looked back down at the bottle in hand, twisted the cap off and took another hard swallow. Another grimace chased the burn.

“Woo!” He hollered and shook his head, laughing again. The sound bounced empty around the walls and died shortly after. Drinking was a gamble, and when you were doing it alone…

Grumbling under his breath, he fished his phone out of his pocket, transferring the bottle of liquor to the hand rolling his luggage case beside him. He’d order a ride and head out. No point sticking around after the show… not anymore. He hadn’t really managed to make any new friends and the longer he hung out backstage the more likely he was to run into one of the Elite.

Although, the idea of the lonely hotel room waiting for him didn’t sound any better.

A new notification for an e-mail caught his eye. He blinked a few times, trying to bring the glowing screen into focus and stopped walking (swaying) altogether so he could hold it closer to his face and make out the reply.

“Oh shit,” he muttered, blue eyes going a little wide. He glanced around him as if he was going to get caught but was still practically on his own. A few crewmembers were down the way, but they hadn’t paid him much mind.

The reply was from the e-mail he’d accidentally sent, thinking he was discussing a possible “bit” with Private Party. Unfortunately, he’d sent it to the wrong address and whoever held that e-mail address had replied.

_Hi Adam,_

_I would absolutely love to do a bit with you… Are you a solo party? I’ve attached a picture for your viewing pleasure, so you’d know what you could be getting yourself into… hope to hear back from you soon. - XOXO Fawna Rose_

He swallowed and glanced at the attachments, slowly moving his thumb over the screen and clicking them open. What he saw made his mouth go dry, hung gently open in a gap, and the blood rush between his legs. She was beautiful – the girl who’d replied – with thick curves his fingers suddenly itched to latch onto and hold. His tongue swept the inside of his lip, and he envisioned himself blemishing her skin with red marks as he sucked his way down her body. Her eyes were amber-brown, rich, and they reminded him of autumn in the country. Her lips were full, perfectly kissable, and he found himself aching for what little sound she’d make when he caught her thick bottom lip between his teeth and pinched it tight. She was scantily dressed in baby pink lace lingerie with matching thigh-high pink fishnet stockings attached by garter belts. He wanted to slowly peel the little bits of material from her body like he was unwrapping a gift. He blinked and realized he could see the peekaboo of her nipples through the sheer material.

His head was spinning.

Lost to good judgement a swig or two ago, Adam set the bottle on top of his luggage case and let his thumbs do the talking for him. A quick e-mail reply was shot back, and he made sure not to mention the entire thing had been a mistake. When he said he wanted to do a “bit” with Private Party he’d meant something else entirely… 

_Hello Fawna,_

_You’re… wow… uh.. I guess I’d be a solo party… not really sure what I’m getting myself into here lol mind helping a guy out? - Adam_

What the hell was he doing? His heart was pounding so hard and fast in his chest he felt as if he might be sick. Adam swallowed, closing the e-mail application and stuffing his phone into his pocket, grunting at the strain of his half-hard cock bulging against the confines of the clothing he was wearing.

Waving off anyone who tried to talk to him, including a few backstage production members who were concerned when he swayed and stumbled a bit (he took two more gulps from the bottle on his way out), Adam drew in a deep breath of fresh air and pulled out his phone to order a ride. He’d shaken off whatever stupidity had prompted him to reply to that e-mail and decided he’d just go back to his room, drink the rest of whatever this was he’d taken from Private Party, pass out and get up to catch his afternoon flight back home the next day. He pushed away the melancholy that chased reality. He was used to doing that these days.

And he was done with it anyways. Those feelings. Defeat. Emptiness. Feeling lonely even when he was in a room crowded with people who were supposed to be his closest, most trusted friends. He’d won the damn dynamite dozen battle royale, hadn’t he? And he’d win the diamond ring next week. Everyone would see he meant business.

Closing the app for the ride service, Adam’s finger hovered over the screen lock button on his phone when a little red dot appeared beside the mail application icon. One unread message. He grinned and clicked it open. An e-mail reply from Fawna.

_Why don’t you call me, and we’ll talk about this a little more?_

Her number followed. He drew a breath and remembered that picture of her in lingerie. Good sense tried beating at the door of his buzzed mind, but he wouldn’t let it in. The boys had been right. He needed to get back on his high horse again. He needed to get back on his cowboy shit.

Adam clicked to dial her number and held the phone to his ear.

“Hello?” Her voice was sweet as honey.

“Hello, is this Fawna? It’s Hangman – er, I mean – Adam.” His brow furrowed as his words stumbled around themselves. What proof _was_ that alcohol anyways? He glanced back at the bottle and tried to read the fine print, but everything was blurring together, and his brain wouldn’t stay focused for long. Especially not with that pretty little thing on the other side of the phone and his insides burning for a complete and total win.

“ _Hangman?_ ” She repeated, and he could hear the amusement in her tone. He realized he had a dumb smile smeared across his mouth that he couldn’t stop if he tried.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s… a whole… thing…” He blinked. “Hey uh… what exactly did I get myself into, e-mailing you?”

Her laughter was as sweet as the rest of her seemed to be, and it didn’t mock him. It encouraged his shoulders to relax, and for him to smile too.

“Well, my husband and I have _particular_ interests… have you ever done any swinging before?”

“No, I haven’t,” he was beat red and decided he needed more alcohol.

“Since you’re a solo party… if you’d be interested, we’d meet up, see if we have chemistry and everyone feels safe and comfortable with each other and then find a hotel room to go to and have a little adult fun.” 

He had to bite back the groan. How long had it been for him? Fuck… he’d needed all of this more than he realized.

“Normally if you’d have someone who’d like to switch, we do partner-swapping… but… well, my husband also enjoys watching while I have fun with a sturdy, handsome bull… and judging by the sound of your voice…” Her tone dipped sultry and it made a shiver crawl down his spine until he had to give himself a quick shake and blink a few times, trying to snap back into focus. A woman like her was a dangerous one. “I’d say you’re one hell of a specimen.”

“Heh, you could say that,” his country drawl dipped low and liquor-won confidence, the high off the crowd chanting his slogan, made him feel like a different man entirely. A buzz from his phone showed him a message that his ride had arrived. “Listen, I’m staying at a hotel already, why don’t I send you the information and we’ll meet in an hour or so?”

“Sounds good, _Hangman_.” She playfully purred his ring-name and made his breath hitch and his head spin. “Can’t wait to see you,” were her last words before the call ended and he found he couldn’t scramble fast enough to send the hotel address her way. Little warning bells tried their hardest to shriek in his mind, somewhere where he’d locked the sober, sensible part of himself away. Meeting up with a stranger for kinky sex? Drunk? What the hell was he doing?

“I’m getting my cowboy shit, that’s what.” He ground out through clenched teeth and took a breath that swelled up his muscled, barrel chest.

By the time the hour had passed, Adam had drunk the rest of the liquor he’d snatched from Private Party’s hand, sent a jumble of text messages to a few people who were checking in and making sure he was alright (he was confident he’d eventually been able to tell them he was fine, just wanted time to himself at the hotel), showered and changed back into his “cowboy shit” t-shirt (appropriate, for what he was reaching for), jeans, boots, and the belt with the big, silver buckle. He grinned at himself in the full-length mirror.

“Yeah,” he said approvingly at his reflection, nodding his head, drunk out of his mind and unaware of how dumb he looked doing it. The proof on that liquor was a hell of a lot stronger than the beer he usually drank. “Yeah…” His fingers pinched the buckle and he leaned, turning and running his inebriated gaze up and down his body. He curled his fist and bent his arm, flexing the muscles of his bicep. He thought about the picture Fawna had sent him – that pretty pink lingerie – and her voice as they’d talked. His sloshed mind reeled, and he grinned as he stepped out into the hotel hall and made his way down to the lobby.

The first thing he thought was: _Wow._

The second thing he thought was: _Thank God this wasn’t some sort of catfish situation._

Fawna Rose was exactly as her picture showed, only she was wearing a tight-fitting black dress that accentuated every curve he was hungry to watch jerk with each thrust he bucked inside her. He wondered if she was wearing anything lacey and see-through underneath. When she looked at him he saw those brown eyes go dark, and he licked his lips as he closed the distance between them.

“Adam?” She asked, and he grinned wide at how hopeful she sounded. She was into him.

‘Course she was. Gone were apprehensions or the nerves he felt, always in his head and convinced he wasn’t good enough. He was coming off a high, winning that dynamite dozen, and had enough liquor in him that he could only have a good time.

“Yeah,” he said, his eyes dropping down her curves and back to her pretty face. “You look even better in person.” Adam stepped forward, his palm sliding on the curve of her hip, adding gentle pressure at her lower back before he dipped, laying a warm, soft kiss on either side of her cheek. He wasn’t sure why he’d done it, he never greeted anyone like that, but maybe it was so he could steal a sniff of her perfume… or maybe it was so he could watch her get a little flustered by him.

They’d just met, but Adam decided he liked getting her worked up. Her rosy cheeks held a blush that hadn’t been applied, and her pupils were dilated, making that amber-brown of her eyes a sliver of a ring around them. She wanted him, and it was the confidence boost he needed.

“My husband is over here,” she said, and Adam nodded and followed in step. He’d been so wrapped up in how attracted he was to her he’d forgotten she was married to begin with.

The man at the table was big, which was saying something to Adam’s six-foot height and two-hundred and thirty-pound weight. He was at least five inches taller, maybe twenty pounds heavier, all muscle. He had blue eyes that cut in a way that Adam’s never had, but maybe the dark black of his long hair and close-shaved beard was what made them stand out more. He looked like he could be a violent man if it called for it, and again those little warning bells tried chiming off in Adam’s head, trying to tell him this situation was too out-of-left-field for him to get involved with.

“You must be Adam,” the man said with a thick, but warm Scottish accent. He didn’t look particularly murderous. In fact, he even smiled. He’d stood at the table and extended a hand for Adam to shake. Fawna glanced between them both and pinched her thick bottom lip between her teeth, a little spark of something in her eyes that Adam was too curious not to pick up on.

“You look like you’re up to trouble,” Adam said to her, hand still clasped in her husbands.

“She always is,” Fawna’s husband said with amusement, and Adam’s eyes swung back to him, remembering he was there at all. It seemed strange that he could completely forget the existence of a six-foot-five-inch Scotsman who even managed to make his hand feel a little small… but god, there was something about her… or maybe it was the entire situation. Maybe it was because he was drunk. Maybe he wouldn’t remember any of this in the morning.

God willing, he hoped he did.

“Yeah, I’m Adam.” He remembered to say, gave her husband’s hand a firmer shake, and then slipped his away. They all sat down at the table, Fawna and her husband across from him.

“Andrew.” Her husband said his name finally, extending one hand around Fawna and rubbing his fingertips up and down her bare shoulder. “Fawna says you’re new to swinging,” Andrew said, one thick, dark brow arching inquisitively.

“Yeah,” Adam blinked, knowing if he was sober there was no way in hell he’d be able to have this kind of conversation. Then again, the pair of them spoke so casually about it, Adam felt like he’d be the weird one if he mentioned how strange it all seemed to him.

Andrew saw right through him and, judging by the grin Fawna had on her mouth, she did too.

“You have some questions then, right?”

“I uh,” Adam blinked, pulling his eyes away from Fawna – god she was gorgeous, he couldn’t wait to see what cute little expression she was going to make when he pushed his cock inside her – and to her husband. Shit… was that okay, to have those kinds of thoughts when her husband was just inches away from him? Well… they were swingers, and Fawna had said Andrew liked watching her get intimate with another man…

The alcohol once again reminded him that complex thought or worrying about consequences was a dumb idea. It was easier to just… go with the flow.

“Not really, I mean… if this is what y’all enjoy, who am I to be any kind of judge? I’m the one that e-mailed you, so clearly I knew at least a little of what I was getting into, even if I didn’t know the whole… thing.” He lied, still too embarrassed to admit he’d messed that up and hadn’t meant to find himself in the situation he was now in.

Andrew’s eyes narrowed slightly, but Fawna smiled and reached across the table, lying her hand atop Adam’s. Her fingertips brushed across his skin and electricity rushed up his veins and all over his body. He couldn’t think past how damn beautiful he thought she was and all the things he wanted to do to her…

“If it makes you nervous, having Andrew in the room… he doesn’t mind leaving us alone, either.”

Adam’s eyes swung away from her (which was nearly an impossible feat to get his drunken mind to do) and to her husband who was looking at her with much of the same, hungry expression Adam had earlier.

“You don’t?”

Andrew pulled his attention from his wife and smiled at Adam.

“No.” He gently rubbed Fawna’s shoulder, and she leaned subtly forward, giving Adam ample view of her cleavage. He tried to keep watching Andrew, but his mind zeroed in and there was no helping the way he hungrily watched that line between her breasts, or how his mouth went dry with the want to bite and suckle that sweet, soft flesh.

“It’s as much for me as it is for her. I like to watch, but I don’t have to.” Andrew dipped and gently kissed her temple. His next words were a whispered growl but said loud enough that Adam would hear them too. “I’ll just make her tell me how much she loved getting fucked by you later,” he laid his lips against the curve of her neck, just below her jaw. Fawna sucked in a sharp breath and her hungry eyes landed firm on Adam.

“What do you say, cowboy?” She asked, voice tight as her husband littered her neck with kisses.

“I want you. **Only** you.” He’d never been so direct, but it felt good. It felt damn good to say what he wanted and not bend to everyone else for once. It felt even better when she gently pushed her palm on her husband’s chest, moving him away from her before she slipped out of her seat and extended an open hand toward Adam. Even though all parties agreed, there was something… _exciting_ … about another man’s wife choosing him to sleep with, right in front of her husband, too.

Adam led them to the elevator, and that’s where they parted from Andrew. Fawna gave him a little kiss before she stepped in after Adam. When the doors to the elevator slid closed, she offered no reprieve. She pressed the firm length of her body against him and, like it was instinctual, Adam’s wide palms ran down her figure without hesitation. She littered hot kisses along his neck, making a sound somewhere between a moan and a groan strangle itself in his tight throat. Her hand fell between them and she stroked the shape of his cock, making him dizzier by the second. Adam’s palms scooped into the fat of her ass, pinching and squeezing tight enough to elicit a gentle yelp from her mouth that made him grin.

She’d worked him into a frenzy by the time the elevator dinged, and the doors slipped open. An elderly couple waiting in the lobby looked at them with wide, shocked eyes, but Fawna only giggled and, hand wrapped around his, tugged him after her. With a laugh in his mouth he followed, giddy and drunk and needy.

He struggled to get the keycard through the slot at the right time, distracted by her hands on his body, slipping up under his shirt as she pressed her nails and gently raked up his back.

“Mmm,” she moaned, and the little green light finally clicked on the door, the lock slid back and he wrenched the damn handle open.

With his hands on her hips, he pushed her into the wall and chased with his body. His hips dug up against hers, sliding the bulge of his trapped hard-on between her legs. He moaned in her ear and kissed her skin, getting more and more drunk with every taste of her coating his tongue. She made the sweetest sounds, little whines and moans, fingers like spiders scurrying hungrily down his body. She tugged at his shirt and he only paused his feast long enough to lean back and tug it off, letting it fall in a pile on the floor.

“Fuck,” she whispered through kiss-swollen lips, eyes appraising his thick torso and chest. Her fingers pressed up his body, nails skimming his nipples and making him clench his teeth, fighting his eyes as they wanted to roll.

“You like what you see, darlin’?” His low, rough voice was demanding an answer. He was someone else entirely tonight. Someone… someone who’d always been there inside him, but he’d never had the confidence to grab. He was the Hangman, and he was here to collect his dues. Next week he’d worry about the ring and about facing MJF. Tonight… tonight he had her.

“Mhm,” she nodded her head and looked up at him.

“C’mere.” He gripped her wrist – so small, he could easily fit both in one hand – and tugged her gently toward the bed.

Adam didn’t sit her on it. Instead he lowered himself to settle on the edge of the mattress and made her stand in front of him. 

“Take off your dress,” he commanded. “I want to see you.”

Fawna turned and pulled her soft brown hair aside so he could help unzip her dress. He watched the peekaboo of soft skin revealed between her shoulder blades and didn’t deny himself from leaning forward and laying a firm kiss there. His lips lingered on her skin as he tasted her. Fawna arched her back and hovered a moment as if wanting more. Adam left her zipper halfway down and gave her ass a little, teasing smack, grinning as she jumped and squealed in playful surprise.

“Take it off,” he said again, both palms flat on the plush comforter as he leaned back to watch her strip for him.

She bit at that full bottom lip again and he clenched, fighting the need to kiss those lips until he bruised them. Fawna reached up, peeling the top of the sleeveless dress slowly down, tormenting him in the best way possible as she revealed inch after inch of smooth skin. She wasn’t wearing the lingerie she’d had on in the picture, but he wasn’t complaining.

Fawna stood in front of him in a matching pink satin bra and panty set, with cream lace trim and matching cream pinstripes. When she turned, Adam’s cock twitched, eyes fallen on the sight of her round, juicy peach of an ass barely caught in those cheeky panties. It was all too easy for him to lean forward, reach and grab her wrist, tugging her into his lap and giving her no time to breathe before he was kissing her and shoving his tongue along hers. His fingers skimmed her stomach, curved into the fat of her thighs, and then pressed between her legs. He stroked her over the material of her panties, just teasing the touch he’d give her, winding her up until she squirmed and whined in his mouth.

They broke apart with a gasp of needed air and he breathed heavy across her face. The pad of his thumb skimmed that sweet, sensitive little button and made her suck in a shaky, gasped breath. He teased her, slowly winding her up as he bent and kissed down her neck, her shoulder, over the tops of her breasts. He latched on to the fat and suckled, rolling the skin between his teeth and pinching gently. With her mouth free, Fawna moaned needy into the room, and drove him to rub her a little harder, but not enough that he’d deliver satisfaction so early.

Adam pulled his hand away and pushed her upwards, so the weight of her ass settled on one of his thick, sturdy thighs and she was sitting up, looking down at him.

“You’re a needy little thing, aren’t you?” He asked, gently taking her chin in his fingers and turning her face as if appraising her beauty. A smile slipped across his mouth. “Have you been waiting for someone like me to come along?”

“Mhmmm,” she said, eyes pleading with him to put his hands on her again.

“Use your words, darlin’.”

“Yes… I’ve been waiting for you, Adam.”

His thumb and forefinger squeezed her chin a little tighter, and he dropped her gaze, so it could be pinned by his.

“Then show me how badly you want me.” He said, and let her chin go. He gently lifted her leg and guided her to straddle the thick thigh he’d previously sat her on.

Fawna rocked her hips, dragging her panties along the stiff denim of his jeans, gasping and moaning when a particular sweep hit the right mark and sent shivers of pleasure through her thighs. Adam watched, his chest tight and mind buzzing. It was as torturous as it was pleasurable to watch her ride his thigh, her legs shaking at either side of his, the pace growing subtly quicker. His still-trapped cock was thick and hard, twitching and leaking under his clothes. It was almost too much to bear, this tease, but he liked watching her work herself into a frenzy on him.

He liked being the man she wanted to get off on. He liked the confidence it gave him. He liked what it did to him. Who she made him.

Adam’s fingers found her warm hips, and he guided her a little faster, a little faster, enjoying the expressions pleasure made on her cute, round face.

“Don’t cum until I say so,” he said, suddenly firm.

Fawna’s eyelashes fluttered and she bit that lip again, whining.

“Please, Adam,” she drug herself along his hard, muscled thigh and made a soft, desperate little sound.

“Nu-uh,” he whispered, reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear.

“But I’m so close,” her brows pinched tight together, her mouth hung open.

“Too bad,” he whispered playfully and, just when it seemed she was going to lose it on the next grind, Adam moved. He pinched her waist and stood up, upsetting their weight and making her stumble off his thigh. He’d brought her right to the edge and snatched her away before she reached nirvana. Frustration pinched her otherwise adorable features, but Adam found he thought she was even cuter all riled up like that.

He’d never let himself have this much fun before and he wasn’t sure if it was the booze still singing in his veins, the pep talk that’d reminded him to get back on his cowboy shit, or Fawna herself. Maybe it was a combination of all three.

He stood up and grimaced as the tight denim of his jeans stretched around his erection. 

“Take the rest off and lay back for me, darlin’.”

Adam watched as Fawna climbed onto the bed, purposefully sinking slow into the soft plush mattress, giving him ample view of her ass tucked in those pink, lace-trim cheeky panties. The groan he stifled vibrated in his throat, and he reached down to yank his damn buckle out of the belt’s clasp, letting the leather hang open on either side as he pinched the button of his jeans. He’d just yanked the zipper down when, her sultry brown eyes on his, Fawna peeled the bra from her breasts like she was undoing the gold foil wrapping around some extravagant and far too expensive treat. He ate up the sight of her breasts gently resting, free, and how pretty and inviting her pink nipples were. His mouth went dry and ached, wanting to latch around and suckle her skin until he left pretty little blue bruises.

Hooking his thumb into the denim, he gave it a sharp tug down his thick, blond-hair dusted thighs and stepped out of them, his boots, and his socks. His hard cock was an impressive bulge against the material of his boxers, and he watched her eyes drop to it, just as she had begun to slip her panties down those legs he so badly wanted to taste. A cocksure grin pushed higher into one side of his cheek than the other. He liked her looking at him like that, like only he could make her feel the way she was feeling right now. 

Adam liked thinking he was the only man on her mind, even while her own husband had been with them just a little bit ago. Maybe he was enjoying this “swingers” thing more than he thought he would…

She slipped her panties off and dropped them off the side of the bed, laying herself back on the plain white comforter, a vision as she bent her legs and propped herself up on the pillows. Adam took a few seconds to eat the sight of her up, eyes running down her body and letting her see how he watched her and how his body reacted to him watching her. His cock throbbed, painfully filled with blood, the tip leaking pre-cum enough to gently dampen the dark dyed cotton material of his boxers. He pinched the elastic and slid them off, leaving him as nude as she was.

Fawna’s teeth caught her lip – a habit, he was noticing – and her eyes were dark as a new moon night out in the country, away from city lights. She let those eyes fall over every inch of him, and Adam stood a little taller. A little surer of himself.

“You like what you see, baby girl?” He asked and watched her closely to catch every expression she made as she answered. Her eyes flew back up to his.

“Yes,” the word came out in a needy, breathy sigh, and Adam decided he’d had enough teasing.

His weight sank into the bed as he crawled up its length and fell a hungry shadow over her. Her thighs fell apart like the gates to paradise were opening for him, and he was the ravaged soul that needed its heavenly comforts. Adam’s hips rolled hers up, pushing her knees into the air. The tip of his cock – bare, neither of them seemed worried about the lack of protection – sank a mere inch or two into her warm, wet slit. The muscles in his arms trembled, and he wrapped them around her back, curling her into him before he thrust forward and shoved the length of his thick, throbbing cock inside her.

A groan poured hot from his mouth and washed over her face. She answered with a whine of her own, and a small utterance of his name that sounded like a plead. As if she were begging him, convinced he was the only man capable of offering her salvation. One hand stayed wrapped around her and the other slid up her body, palm squeezing her breast, pinching her nipple and rolling it between his fingers before he drew a small yelp that was chased by a moan. That hand traveled on, grabbing each one of her wrists, wrapping his fingers around them – his hand was big enough to catch both – and raising them up over her head. He pinned her and left her unable to touch him, unable to do anything but lay a willing victim to thrust after thrust as he shoved his hips up toward hers, balls slapping the wet slick that covered her ass and his thighs.

A low growl out of his mouth, and his eyes rolled. When they rolled back, he thrust harder. Faster. It didn’t even feel better to rip it up inside her, but it felt good to feel like he had the control, like he had some ungodly strength and power, and he’d leave her bruised and thinking about him well into the next day.

Finally, sweat dripping down the line in the middle of his chest and sticking their skin together, Adam slowed his pace. His breaths fell in hard, heavy waves over her. The muscles in his thighs and ass ached as he gently relaxed them and slipped his hands away from her wrists. He’d pinched them so tight his fingers left soft white marks in her skin. He glanced down at her and caught her deliriously pleasured gaze. It made him smile and laugh on a weak exhale. 

“You like that, don’t you darlin’?” He asked her gently, like one would talk to a cute little kitten.

“Yes,” she panted back, and her lips pressed into a smile that made his grow.

“You’re a wild little filly,” he said, playful edge dipping his country drawl deep, “and I’ve got a mind to tame you.”

“That so, cowboy?” She asked, her voice still tight and breathless. She was trying to tease, but he’d affected her and she was struggling to come out of the fog of gratification. It satisfied him to see it.

Adam shifted, lifting his torso off her body and kneeling between her legs, still halfway thrust inside her, never once pulling out. He glanced down where they were joined, saw the fat veins running along his girthy erection, and how he glistened with wet from how messy she’d been thus far. One eyebrow arched with a jump as his eyes slid from that sight, up her naked body, and to her face. A smile hung lazy on his mouth as his big hands grabbed her legs at either side of his body, lifting them and setting her ankles on his broad shoulders. Bringing her legs up helped him push deeper when he slowly leaned forward, sinking the few extra inches and doing it slowly, letting her cunt adjust to what it felt like to be strained by him.

Then, as he started to thrust, Adam’s palm clapped with a spank against her ass. She yelped, and he smacked her again. The fat of her ass rippled, and he clenched his jaw, smacking her again. Harder. There was a red print in the shape of his hand across her pale ass. It made him hungrier. His thrusts came in shorter, harder bursts. He slapped her again.

“Adam!” She screamed his name.

“That’s right darlin’,” he barely managed to squeeze it through the gaps in his teeth, and it was chased by a long groan as a particular thrust sent a shiver through the tip of his head, down his shaft and down his balls. They were sucked up tight to the base of his cock. “Scream my name, let them know – **_Nnnggghhfuck_** – let them know who’s the man,” his mind felt fuzzy, drunk on pleasure plunging into her was giving him.

She cried out, moaning as he thrust forward, sinking his hips against hers. He smacked her ass and squeezed hard into the flesh, drawing a cute little yelp out of her lips again. Adam drew his hips back and sank deep inside.

He knew she was close.

“Cum,” he commanded, barely managing to get the word out of his tight throat.

“Adam! **_Fuck!!!_** ” 

She came, her thighs clamping together and her pink painted toes curling on either side of his head. She quivered and twitched and made little sounds of undeniable gratification. The warm, wet muscles of her cunt squeezed and pulled at his already on-the-verge cock. He couldn’t hold off anymore.

With a long moan that started as her name and quickly was lost to sensible words, Adam collapsed forward on her, decorating her insides with ribbons of warm cum. His moan was a long breath over her, and he was victim to do nothing but hold her still as the sensation passed. He became nothing more than a beast, lost to reasonable sense. He was his pleasure. He was the nirvana at finally seizing what he wanted in life and coming out victorious because of it. He was everything Fawna had given to him.

Then, he breathed. He came back down to earth and slowly pushed his body off hers, his arms feeling alienlike in how weak they were. There was a different sort of exhaustion after particularly good sex, like a good cry or an unstoppable laugh that nearly robs you of all air _. Cathartic._

Adam smiled down at her and gingerly helped rearrange their limbs to a more comfortable position. He kept himself tucked inside her – just for a moment longer as he slowly softened – and laid down behind her. Fawna happily obliged, curling into his body, seemingly not ready to let him go just yet. His lips pressed a kiss into her temple, and she turned her head to smile up at him.

“You are something else, cowboy.” Her pleasure-exhausted voice was soft, just barely spoken above a whisper. 

Adam chuckled behind closed lips and reached to tuck a strand of her brown hair behind her ear, then fell into cradling her face. His thumb skimmed across her soft, round cheek. He stretched, leaning up (and trying not to grunt as his still sensitive cock was shoved a little bit up inside her again) and placed his lips against hers in a sweet, satiated kiss. When he pulled away, he was smiling, and she was too.

“You’re not too bad yourself.” A pause, and he decided to tell her. “Hey, did you know I e-mailed you by mistake?” His grin stretched with amusement.

“Oh, yeah. Absolutely.” She laughed.

“What?! You did?”

“You were _so sweet_ in your e-mail… and, if I’m being honest…” She bit at her lip and Adam was surprised to find that despite being sexually drained in the best way, seeing the sight of it made him hungry all over again. God… he wished he could go at her again. She peered up through her lashes at him.

“What is it darlin’?”

“I didn’t actually expect to get an answer back to my reply to you. I figured you’d tell me it was a mistake and that’d be that. Plus… I may or may not kind of know who you are.” She flashed an innocent smile at him, but it was all too clear it hid the mischief of an imp underneath.

Adam’s blond brows rose up on his forehead.

“You do?”

“I put two-and-two together from your name and then when you introduced yourself as Hangman…well, I just considered myself a lucky girl.” That playful little smile again. It made his palm itch to slap that welted curve of her ass. The little tease… she had to know the effect she had on him.

“And just so you know,” she glanced down their still-joined bodies. “What just happened right now? That was some **real** cowboy shit.”


End file.
